


World's Okayest Mentor

by queenofcryptiids



Category: Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man - Fandom
Genre: Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Miles Morales Needs a Hug, Miles Morales Whump, Peter B. Parker is My Dad Now, Pretty heavy miles whump ahead so look out, Secret Identity, Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse, hi i don't know how ao3 works, hurt real bad lmao, i can't believe i forgot to mention that, i have daddy issues and i'm making it your problem, i mean like once or twice idk, i'm still not over this movie, i'm the captain of the miles morales protection squad, just validate me, no i did not proofread, was somehow not a fandom that it suggested for me?? so I'm putting it here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 04:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19349761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofcryptiids/pseuds/queenofcryptiids
Summary: “My parents want to adopt me!” Miles blurted.Peter blinked. “I’m...I’m sorry?”“They want to adopt me my dad thinks Spider-Man is an orphan and he wants to adopt him how am I supposed to tell my dad he can’t adopt his own son—““Wait wait so theydon’tknow you’re Spider-Man?”“I guess not!” Miles rubbed his face. “Oh my god I’m really in it now…”---Miles is trying his best to live up to the Spider-Man mantle, but when a certain New York police officer takes it upon himself to take Spider-Man under his wing, keeping the all-important identity a secret becomes easier said than done.





	1. Rock and a Hard Place

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is my first ao3 post so sorry that the formatting is probably like 800 different kinds of fucked up. I write A LOT though, so expect more finished works and WIPs in the future!

Miles didn’t think he was ever going to get used to this. 

Gwen swore up and down he would, in their many late-night interdimensional conversations over the weeks, but Miles, currently perched at the top of a 15-story business complex, was pretty sure it was never going to happen. His heart was in his throat and his stomach in his shoes, but Peter’s words echoed in his head as he prepared himself, so he ignored his pounding heart rate and leapt. 

For a moment, as it always did, time seemed to slow as he soared above the Brooklyn skyline, arms outstretched like a bird. The moment he looked down though, the ground seemed to come rushing up to meet him. Feeling the crisp, salty breeze against his mask, Miles took a deep breath and followed Peter’s instructions in his head to send a pair of webs out from his wrists, hooked onto a flagpole, and came swinging back up toward the night sky with a whoop of joy. 

Sirens from a few blocks away caught his attention and sent him webbing over. It had taken him a few weeks to get a basic idea of, now that the world was no longer ending, exactly what he should be doing as Spider-Man. Apparently some spider-people had AIs in their masks that could alert them of nearby crimes in process, which he had to admit he was a bit jealous of, since he hadn’t had the time to wire one in himself. Still, he’d clocked his hearing radius at about ten or so blocks, so ongoing crimes weren’t all that hard to find. 

This particular situation was a mugging, apparently. The sirens stopped a few blocks away and Miles watched as a police officer emerged to interview a crying couple who pointed down the street. Miles stopped on the edge of a building and closed his eyes, trying to hear past the woman’s account of what had happened. Past the sirens and traffic and talking of a Brooklyn street. He heard footsteps, racing breaths, and the jingling of coins and keys with each step. Miles smiled behind his mask and took off toward the sound. 

Though significantly better at webbing than he had been, it had only been a few weeks, so he stumbled slightly a few times as he webbed at top speed toward the mugger. It didn’t take him long to find him, standing with the purse in one hand and his phone in the other, and without a moment’s hesitation, he leapt down into the alleyway behind him. 

“They say you can tell a lot about a woman by what’s in her purse.” He said, hands on his hips, voice artificially low in his Spider-Man voice. The mugger leapt nearly a foot in the air and dropped both the phone and the purse he’d stolen, immediately throwing his arms over his head. 

“Oh my god, Spider-Man.” the mugger breathed. He was young. Miles’ age young. In fact, Miles was pretty sure he’d seen him around his neighborhood. All at once his face screwed up into a confused frown. “Wait, was that from _The Incredibles?”_

“Uh, no, it wasn’t.” Miles said quickly. The mugger began to backpedal. “Hey, slow your roll, dude.” He shot out a web onto the boy’s foot to keep him in place. “Maybe we should talk this over at the police station, huh?” 

“Wait, wait wait!” the boy begged. “Please, you’ve got to let me go, they’re gonna find me--”

“Whoa, slow down!” Miles said. “Tell me what’s happening.” 

The boy tugged at the webs as Miles approached him. “My brother and his friend Mark put me up to this, I was too scared to say no, please, if they find out I got caught they’ll kill me, please, Mr. Spider-Man, sir, you’ve got to believe me--” He stopped as the sounds of approaching sirens met his ears. Miles watched his face turn ashen. 

He knew of Mark. Most kids in his neighborhood had. He was a recruiter for the Crips. Miles took a single moment to hesitate before he jogged forward and knelt down in front of the boy, using his enhanced strength to rip the webs from the boy’s foot. 

“Get out of here, quick.” He murmured, taking the purse from him. “I don’t wanna see you out here getting into trouble like this anymore, got it?” he said sternly, trying to sound like his father. The boy nodded and turned on his heel and sprinted away, just as the police car came to a stop behind him. 

Miles immediately hunched himself over, breathing heavy as if there’d been a fight as he heard the cop car door open, then slam closed again. “Alright, put your hands--oh. Spider-Man.” 

“I got the purse b--oh, crap.” As Miles turned, he sighed. The police officer in question was his own father, who had stopped his approach to watch him. Of all the hundreds of police officers in Brooklyn, he just had to end up in an alley with his own dad. “Uh--” he cleared his throat to renew his fake Spider-Man voice. “I got the purse, officer.” 

He tossed it at Officer Davis, who caught it with a raised eyebrow. “That woman didn’t mention it was Spider-Man who had mugged her.” He said. 

“Uh, oh, I didn’t, that wasn’t—“ Miles stuttered, then pointed behind him. “The guy got away after I grabbed it, actually, I didn’t—I didn’t mug anybody.” Smooth. 

“Yeah, I gathered that.” Officer Davis grinned at him. “Haven’t seen you since Fisk.” He commented after a moment, giving Spider-Man a thorough once-over. He was shorter than he remembered, much more slight than he’d seemed just after taking down the Kingpin.

“Oh I’ve been...busy. Y’know, with Spider-Man..business.” Miles said with a short nod. His throat was starting to ache from keeping his fake deep voice for so long. Thankfully, Davis didn’t mention it, and just nodded. 

“I never thanked you for that.”

“For what?”

Jefferson laughed gently. Miles couldn’t help but echo his dad’s smile, even behind the mask. “For saving my ass? The whole town’s?” Miles grinned even wider. His dad normally didn’t swear around him, and he was never allowed to swear back unless he wanted to be met with a shout of “hey! Language!” every two seconds. 

“Oh!” Miles waved a hand dismissively. Talking to his dad for this long was starting to make him nervous that he wouldn’t be able to keep up the act. It was nice to talk with him, really; it felt almost more natural talking to him from behind the mask than as himself. But something in his dad’s eyes reflected a soft familiarity, almost as if he already knew it was him behind the mask, though Miles knew that was impossible. “That was nothing. All in a day’s work!” 

“Well, still. I appreciate it.” Jefferson came closer and put out a hand. Miles stared for a moment while his dad continued. “I’ve got a lot to come home to every night, yknow? We all do. I’m sure you do, too.” He gave him a pointed look, almost like he was waiting for Miles to admit something. Miles just swallowed and took his dad’s hand. 

“Oh, no, no, I uh—I work alone. Easier that way.” His fake voice cracked for a moment, making him wince. “But it’s good to hear I helped somebody out. Speaking of which I should probably...go do some more of that now…” 

“Sure.” Jefferson released his hand. “I get it. It was good seeing you again, Spider-Man. Hopefully I’ll see you around.” 

“Yeah, hopefully.” Miles nodded once and began to backpedal further. “Later, officer.” 

Davis chuckled. “Later.” 

Miles webbed the roof and zipped upwards and away from his dad, who watched him as he went. He swung high up over the buildings and eventually perched on a flagpole and pulled his mask halfway up, breathing hard. He knew that look in his father’s eye. It was one he gave him often, though one he gave him, not Spider-Man. He must know, Miles thought. He didn’t know how but some way, his dad knew. 

“Shit!” Miles swore. He needed help. From someone who’d been in this situation. He loved Gwen, but she wasn’t going to cut it. He needed to bring in the big guns. 

X

Peter sighed in contentment as he stirred his coffee, breathing in the familiar scent of dollar-store factory-hazelnut-flavored instant crystals™. It was shaping up to be a good morning (the fact that it was 2pm notwithstanding). He was meeting MJ later that evening, so he’d awoken early (yes, 2pm is early) and made coffee as part of his lengthy process of emotional preparation to see her again. 

He could really use one of Gwen’s pep talks right about now, but he supposed that ship sailed about three weeks ago. It was alright. He could do on his own. Nah, he totally couldn’t. But that’s what he’d been telling himself. He took a sip of the coffee--mmm. Artificial flavoring. 

A strange movement beside him caught his eye, but without his spidey sense going off he wasn’t really in a huge hurry to look and see what it was. Taking another sip, he turned slightly and was immediately met with a spry figure popping out of seemingly nowhere, already shouting at him as it launched itself toward him. 

Peter let out a high-pitched shriek and dropped his coffee mug, reflexively leaping back from Miles, who had just materialized, already screaming, in his kitchen. It shattered on the floor before either could stop it. Once Peter was over his initial fright, realizing there was no real threat, he looked sadly down at the broken coffee cup and the remnants of his coffee, now burning his bare feet. 

“Aw, my coffee.” he whined with a defeated frown. Then, realizing exactly what it was that had made him drop said coffee, he looked up with wide eyes at the boy who was standing beside him with a huge grin on his face.

“Oh my god! Miles!” Peter exclaimed, overjoyed. He grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug that Miles returned with a laugh. “You’re here!” 

“I’m here!” Miles echoed, though his voice was slightly muffled due to his face being shoved into Peter’s shirt. Peter eventually pulled him back, but kept both hands on his shoulders. 

“I missed you, kid!” He said. “How’d you get here? Why didn’t you come sooner?” For the first time he actually managed to look at Miles; the kid looked largely the same, though he had tired bags beneath his eyes that made Peter frown. 

“Well, I didn’t want to bother you…” 

Peter laughed sarcastically. “Yeah, I’ve really got a whole lot going on at 2pm on a Wednesday, clearly.” The fact that he was wearing Spider-Man pajama pants over his suit emphasized his point and made Miles laugh again, but his face fell after a moment, accentuating the bags beneath his eyes. It made Peter’s heart sink. 

“Jeez, kiddo. What’s eatin’ ya?”

Miles suddenly became interested in his untied shoelace, wiggling his feet around beneath him uncomfortably. “I’ve got…a little problem…” 

Peter put a hand on Miles’ shoulder. “Tell ol’ uncle Spidey everything.” 

He ushered Miles by the shoulders towards a mismatched breakfast table stool and sat him down before turning back toward the kitchen to try to make him some lunch despite not knowing at all how to cook. And also not having any groceries. He settled on reheating some Thai takeout, knowing that Miles’ new powers likely had come with an enhanced appetite, as his had. Teenagers like three day old sesame tofu and Mountain Dew straight out of the liter bottle, right? Apparently, yes. Miles was so focused on the food for a moment that he completely forgot about whatever he was there for. Peter didn’t press him though, just let him eat. Finally, Miles set the to go carton down and looked up. 

“Okay. First off, wherever you got that, I really hope they have one in my universe.” Miles sighed and let his shoulders droop. “And secondly. Uh. Yknow how you said that our secret identity was like super important?” He asked, already wincing. 

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Can’t say I’m too big a fan of your pitch so far, bud.” He said as he stole a sip from the bottle of Mountain Dew. 

Miles exhaled and closed his eyes, eventually squeezing them shut tightly. “My dad totally knows I’m Spider-Man!” He said as fast as he could, almost as if saying it quickly would negate its implications. Peter paused his sip, eyes going wide, before spraying Mountain Dew all over the table in an almost comically dramatic spit take. 

“He what?!”

“I know!” 

“But—your dad!” 

“I know!!” Miles threw his hands up to cover his face, whimpering slightly as he dug the heels of his palms into his forehead. “Ugh, I’m so screwed!” 

“No no no no, we can figure this out.” Peter slowly set the bottle of Mountain Dew back down onto the table. “What are you gonna do?”

“What am I gonna do?!” Miles repeated incredulously. “I don’t know what the hell I'm gonna do! That’s why I’m here!”

“Hey, language.” Peter chided almost reflexively. Not out of genuine concern for Miles’ innocence. Just because any word more adventurous than 'darn' sounded incredibly wrong coming from the kid’s mouth. 

“Is this the time?!”

Peter sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, Miles, look…” _What had happened when May had found out? It really wasn’t that bad, he supposed. Just embarrassing that she’d known for so long and he had still been stupidly trying to hide it from her._ “How do you know he knows?”

“Well I don’t _know_ know…”

Peter leaned forward. “Okay. This…might not be as bad as you think. I mean, has he called you out on it directly?”

“No, not directly.” As he spoke, he fished his phone out of his back pocket and slid it across the table towards Peter. “But look.”

Peter webbed his reading glasses into his hand and squinted at the text on Miles’ screen. 

_Dad: Hey kiddo. How’s school? Ran into Spider-Man on patrol last night. Next time should I tell him u say hi? Lol. Come have dinner w us sometime soon. -X, Dad_

“Ooh, yeah, that’s pretty bad.” Peter agreed with a wince. “That’s real bad.”

“I know!” Miles took the phone back. “You’ve gotta tell me what to do, Peter! Two weeks and I’ve already blown my cover!” He put his face in his hands and Peter smiled patiently at him. 

“Miles—“ 

“I’m so bad at being Spider-Man oh my god, I’m just gonna throw myself into a dumpster and live there—“ 

“Miles!” Peter laughed and pulled Miles’ hands away from his face gently. “Calm down. It looks bad, but I’m telling you, we can figure this out, okay?” Miles just groaned and slammed his head down onto the table. “Alright listen, secret identity one-oh-one, kiddo.” 

Miles picked his head up hopefully and Peter laughed at his slightly surprised expression. “What, you think I’d let my very own protege go this alone? I can’t mess you up, you’re the only protege I’ve got!” Miles finally laughed and Peter echoed it. 

“Now listen,” Peter emphasized. “Until your dad actually comes right out and tells you he knows, do not tell him. That’d be reaaal awkward if you just assumed he knew and then he didn’t.” 

“Okay, yeah, good call.” Miles said. “What if he asks? Do I deny it?”

“Uh…if it’s a question? Yes. If it’s a statement it’s probably best to come clean.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Learned that one from experience.” 

Miles sighed and passed his phone back and forth between his hands nervously. “Oh man. I don’t know if I can do this.” 

“Kid, you took down Kingpin and Doc Oc all by yourself. You can do anything. You’re Spider-Man!” Peter said, clapping his hand down onto Miles’ shoulder hard and shaking him a little for emphasis. 

Abruptly, Miles’ entire body erupted into a powerful glitch that jolted him nearly out of the seat. Peter stood quickly and rushed to stand beside him, moving both hands to his shoulders. “Whoa, whoa, Miles, you alright?” 

“Ow.” Miles winced and rubbed his arm. “That hurt.”

Peter inspected and fussed over him for a moment before frowning and pulling away from him. “We should probably get you back to your dimension. Looks like you’re starting to glitch.” He pulled Miles to his feet and pushed him toward the area where he’d first glitched into his universe. 

Miles swallowed nervously. “Oh man. Oh man oh man oh man--” 

“You’ve got this, little spider.” Peter insisted. “You come back through soon and tell me how dinner goes, you got it? No more of this ‘waiting three weeks to see Ol’ uncle Spidey again’ garbage, got it?” 

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Miles groaned. 

Peter stopped and looked seriously into Miles’ face. “Do you want me to come with you?” 

He sighed. “No...I guess I ought to do it by myself...But the next time I talk to Gwen I’ll tell her to come teach you how to hop dimensions like us.” 

“You’ve been talking to Gwen too?” Peter frowned. “Jeez, now I’m really starting to feel left out. Kids these days.” 

“I’ll visit really soon. God knows I’m gonna need to…” Miles muttered. “Thanks for your help, Peter...wish me luck.” 

Miles opened the portal the way Gwen had taught him and prepared to step through. Peter put a hand on his shoulder and patted it once, grinning fondly at him. “You’re Spider-Man. You don’t need luck.”


	2. Officer Dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles is really bad at lying.html

“Spider-Man, Spider-Man, Spider-Man. Is that all you can talk about?” 

Davis sighed and rubbed his sore neck as he closed his locker. “He saved my ass. I think that entitles me to a few weeks of talking about the guy.”

Officer Wright scoffed. “Yeah, I save people’s lives every day. Where’s my fuckin’ parade? All we get is a bunch of protests and paperwork.” 

Davis rolled his eyes but said nothing. He’d learned better than to argue with him. Wright continued, emboldened by Davis’ silence. “If I ever run into Spider-Man, the only thing he’s getting from me is a pair of handcuffs and his Miranda rights.” 

The others laughed their agreement, but Davis remained silent. 

“He’s a pain in the ass.”

“—sick of these damn vigilantes running around in their underwear—“ 

Finally, something Wright was saying caught Davis’ attention. “He’s not even the real Spider-Man anyway.” He remarked with derision. 

Davis thought about that. This new Spider-Man was different, he had to admit. He seemed… smaller, somehow. Not just in stature, but in the way he acted. Timid almost, as if he was just beginning to figure everything out. He did have pretty big shoes to fill, he supposed. “Seems like the real Spider-Man to me. Fights like the real Spider-Man anyway.” He pictured the slight figure standing before Fisk, fists clenched, but still trembling. 

Wright scoffed and slammed his locker shut. “He’s just some kid in a costume. Dumbshit’s gonna get himself killed.” He shook his head before he and the other officers grabbed their things and left Davis alone in the locker room to ponder is last words. 

_Just some kid._ Davis thought. He’d always felt that Spider-Man reminded him of someone, but Wright’s words finally made him realize who. He reminded him of Miles. They had the same exuberant energy, yet somehow also shared the same tentativeness, an air of uncertainty. He figured Spider-Man was probably a few years older, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized just how accurate the label of “kid” really was. 

After all, Davis supposed, Peter Parker had only been sixteen or so when he started acting as Spider-Man. He almost smiled then, thinking of how ridiculous the kid’s fake deep voice had been. But then he remembered what had happened to Peter Parker. Dead at 26. 

“Jesus.” He breathed, sitting back down on the bench and resting his elbows on his knees. If his stature and voice were any indication, Spider-Man couldn’t be older than sixteen or so. He’d said he had no family. Was he an orphan? Was he living on the street? Did he have somebody to worry about him the way he worried about Miles? 

Davis couldn’t get Spider-Man out of his head on the drive home. Even once he was there, while he and Rio ate breakfast together (they’d both had the night shift), he couldn’t stop imagining what Spider-Man must be like behind the mask. 

“I ran into Spider-Man again last night.” Jefferson said. Rio looked up sadly. 

“He worries me.” She said. “After what happened to that poor Peter…”

“Do you remember when Spider-Man first started?” Jefferson asked. 

“Oh, must’ve been ten years or so at least.” Jefferson swore and Rio frowned. “What?”

“That would have made him sixteen. I think the new Spider-Man is just a kid, too. Just the way he talks and acts...he seems so young. Almost reminds me of Miles.”

Rio put a hand over her heart. “I wonder if he has family. If somebody's waiting up for him, worried sick.”

“Told me he didn’t.” Jefferson said. 

_“Ay, pobrecito.”_ Rio breathed. “He’s just a boy! Can you imagine?” 

He shook his head. “Boys down at the station want to lock him up next time they find him...I think he probably belongs in a foster home, not a jail.” 

“He belongs in a home.” Rio said. “I’ve seen too many kids get lost in the system...he ever ends up in my ER I’d never let him go back to the streets I’ll tell you that.” 

Jefferson raised his eyebrow and smiled slightly. “What exactly did you have in mind?” 

Rio shrugged. “God, I don’t know. Convert Miles’ bed into a bunk bed I guess. Who wouldn’t want Spider-Man as an adoptive brother?” She giggled to herself but she had that look in her eye that Jefferson knew well. She meant what she was saying. 

“I just hope I can find him before the other officers do. I don’t want him ending up in jail when he just needs somebody to look after him.” Jefferson pulled out his phone and absentmindedly stared at his wallpaper. It was a picture he’d taken of Rio and Miles while neither was looking, the both of them cooking and singing together. He could hardly imagine someone just a few years older than his own son, out there all alone at night, taking on evildoers four times his size without anyone to worry about him. 

Jefferson, at the very least, was there to worry about him. It kept him up during the day while he was supposed to be sleeping in preparation for his next shift. Eventually he opened his phone again and opened his messages to text Miles. 

_Ran into Spider-Man again on patrol. Next time should I tell him u say hi? Lol._ Was Miles still a fan of the new Spider-Man? Did he know Spider-Man was just a kid like him? Most importantly, especially if Rio had any say over it, how did Miles feel about bunk beds? The only thing to do was invite him to dinner sometime and ask. 

X

Peter had said that since Miles was Spider-Man, he wouldn't need luck. Miles was starting to think that being Spider-Man made luck all the more necessary. He only had one job to do between talking to Peter and dinner with his parents. Stay away from his dad. And somehow he couldn’t even do that right. 

“I dunno, Gwen.” He said in between bites of gyro. “I mean, I’ve only been Spider-Man for like three weeks and I’ve already blown my cover.” 

“You don’t know that.” She said back. “Like Peter said, you don’t know for sure that he knows.” 

The air was cool around them while they sat on a fire escape, sharing a gyro and a soda that somebody had bought for Miles after he’d caught their escaped dog. Miles swung his legs back and forth while he watched the lights of Brooklyn beneath him. Eventually he sighed and passed the gyro to Gwen again. 

“I’m really blowing this, aren’t I?” 

To his surprise, Gwen laughed. “Are you kidding me? Remind me how you got yourself this gyro again?” 

“Well that was just some stupid little favor--” 

“It’s not stupid! This is what being Spider-Man is all about!” Gwen emphasized her words by shaking the gyro at him, sending little bits of tomato flying out and onto Miles’ lap. He laughed and playfully shoved her, but she didn’t seem to mind, taking another bite before passing it back to him. “I don’t know about you, but I became Spider-Woman like 90% for the free food.” 

“It’s just that...Peter says my secret identity is like, the most important Spider-Man thing. And I kinda messed the whole thing up.” 

Gwen sighed and pulled her legs up to her chest. “I don’t know if it’s the most important Spider-Person thing.” she said with a frown. 

“Well, what is?” 

She shrugged. “I don’t know...having spider powers seems to be a common thread.” 

He shoved her again. “Gwen, I’m serious!”

“So am I!” She insisted. “Look, Miles. There is not one most important thing. Like, to Peter it might be his secret identity. To Noir it’s probably like, punching Nazis. Maybe it’s something different to you.” 

Miles considered that. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” 

“Of course I’m right. I’m always right.” She looked like she was about to say more, but both of their spidey senses suddenly went off like an alarm and they both sat up straight at attention, listening into the distance for whatever was causing trouble. They could faintly hear a gruff, angry voice, speaking in spanish. Miles stood. 

“Scorpion.” he said grimly, pulling his mask down over his face. 

“Tag team?” Gwen offered. Miles shook his head. 

“Nah. I got this.” 

She smiled and opened her portal as she pulled up her hood. “Show ‘em what you got, Spider-Man.” They bumped fists before she jumped through her portal and he webbed off towards Scorpion. 

Miles spotted Scorpion from a rooftop after just a few moments of webbing, his bionic legs scuttling beneath him as he hurried down an alleyway. In his arms he held several white bags full of something. Miles gritted his teeth and webbed down, hooked a web around the extra sets of legs, and pulled tight, tripping the massive villain forward. 

“Son of a bitch!” Scorpion cried in Spanish as the bags scattered out of his arms. “Oh great, it’s the little spider again.” 

“Miss me?” Miles called back, also in Spanish. Scorpion jabbed out with his massive, barbed tail, but Miles was too fast as he leapt to the side to dodge his strike. “Whatcha got there, a present for me? Christmas comes early this year? Or is it a late Hanukkah?” 

He was going to joke more, but Scorpion lashed out again and this time the hit nearly landed. “Shut up you little brat! I should have killed you when we had the chance.” He lashed out once more, and apparently Scorpion’s luck came in threes, because this time Miles couldn’t make it out of the way fast enough to dodge the fist that eventually impacted with his face. 

Miles flew backwards into the brick wall, but was quick to get back to his feet. “Man, somebody’s not in the giving spirit, I guess.” He muttered. “Seriously though, hand over the bags, Scorpion! I don’t want to have to hurt you!” He guessed they were full of money from a bank he’d just robbed, maybe full of drugs or something like that. Hell, he didn’t care if they were full of teddy bears. He just didn’t want Scorpion to have them. 

Sirens from a few blocks away momentarily distracted the both of them, though Miles took advantage of the moment to strike out against Scorpion and even landed a fairly impressive kick to the villain’s face. He got the upper hand on Scorpion as the sirens approached, but it couldn’t last as, just when the squad car stopped near the building where they were fighting, Scorpion whipped around and smacked Miles across the chest with his tail, knocking both the wind and the fight out of him. Miles fell back onto the ground with a huff as Scorpion grabbed his bags and made a run for it. 

“Nononono wait wait! Ah, shit.” Miles webbed out to try to lasso Scorpion, but he was gone before he could. His ribs ached where Scorpion had struck him, but he slowly pushed himself off the ground anyway just as the policeman was exiting the car. 

“Spider-Man!” He heard him shout. Miles swore under his breath. He knew that voice. 

There were hands on his arms suddenly, strong ones that helped him to his feet. “You alright?” His father asked, voice thick with concern. 

“Yep, yep, just fine.” Miles said quickly, putting on his Spider-Man Voice™ and switching back to English.“Lost him, though.” He wobbled on his feet a little bit as he looked and listened for any sign of Scorpion. Officer Davis put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, relax, I called backup. They’re on it.” His hand hovered in the air between them like he was moments away from having to catch a fainting Spider-Man. “You don’t look so hot. Well—you don’t seem so hot I guess I should say.” 

“Had worse.” Miles said, then sighed at his father.“You got an APB out on me or something? Bugged my suit? Got a bloodhound tracking me?” It sounded a little meaner than he intended, but his dad laughed anyway. 

“Well, somebody’s got to look after you, right?” 

“If you say so.” Miles grumbled. His ribs ached with every breath he took; he was sure he’d cracked one of them. His father raised an eyebrow at him and stepped forward, his hand still hovering beside Miles’ elbow. 

“You sure you’re alright? Need me to call a medical team?” 

“No!” Miles said a little too loudly, a little too forcefully. Forcefully enough to cause his deep Spider-Man voice to crack a little. “I mean, it’s no big deal, really. I’ve had plenty worse.” _Seriously out of all the cops in Brooklyn, why on Earth did it have to be him??_ His dad seemed to finally agree though, nodding silently. 

“You happen to see what Scorpion had in those bags?” 

“No, I couldn’t tell. They looked heavy, though.” Miles said, glad to be talking about something other than himself. “Might have something to do with Kingpin though. They’re probably still working together.” 

“You could be right.” Jefferson agreed. “We should put somebody on this…” he appeared lost in thought as he fiddled with his communicator to summon more backup to find Scorpion, and Miles slowly began to back away from him. Jefferson noticed this and looked up, his communicator forgotten. 

“Hey, slow down Spider-Man.” He said. Miles was suddenly very glad he was wearing a mask so Jefferson couldn’t see his wince. “I can’t in good conscience let you go running around Brooklyn all beat up like this.” 

Miles stared at him. “Uh…?” 

“C’mon. Take a ride with me.” Jefferson nodded towards the squad car. Miles narrowed his eyes. 

“Why, you taking me in?” He asked suspiciously. Jefferson chuckled. 

“Fine. Take a walk with me, then. I’ll buy you a hot dog.” He was already walking away though, so Miles had to chose. Follow him and risk compromising himself, or just web away and lose the opportunity to spend time with his dad. The situation was somehow reminding him of being trapped behind his dorm room door while his father poured his heart out to him. For some reason they had an easier time communicating when one of them was behind a wall. Or a mask. 

Jefferson was halfway down the block. Miles jogged to follow him. He fell in step beside his father, who didn’t acknowledge it, just kept walking as if strolling down the Brooklyn streets beside Spider-Man was the most normal thing in the world. 

“So what do you do when you’re done Spider-Man...ing?” Jefferson asked casually. 

“Uh…” _What would Peter say? What would Gwen do??_ “Um...justice never sleeps?” 

Jefferson just laughed. “Do you live alone?” 

_Oh god oh god oh god._ “Um…” his hesitance was probably all the answer his dad needed. 

“That’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Jefferson said. Miles sighed in relief but tried not to show it. “My son likes this place.” He nodded at the hot dog cart that he’d taken Miles to a thousand times, usually on their trips downtown. 

“Oh--oh yeah?” _Oh god here it comes. He’s gonna call me out. Any second now._

Jefferson nodded again as he stepped up to the cart to order. The man making the hotdogs seemed fairly star struck that Spider-Man himself was getting a hotdog from his stand, so much so that he nearly dropped them while squirting ketchup on them. “Yeah. Here you’ll like this.” Miles took the hotdog from him, still suspicious. 

“Thanks…” 

They were both quiet for a moment while they walked. Miles wasn’t really sure what to say but his dad didn’t seem to mind much. “He’s about your age.” He said after a long time. 

“O-Oh, your son?” His dad nodded. “H-how old is he?” 

“He’s 13.” 

Miles tried to laugh nonchalantly, but it ended up sounding a bit more like a nervous cough. “Oh, I’m—“ he cleared his throat. “I’m much older than 13.” 

Jefferson shot him a look. One Miles had seen many times. It was his sure you are look. Miles swallowed. His dad didn’t argue with him though. “He’s a fan of yours. I bet you’d like each other. I’m having dinner with him later this week actually. I’ll tell him you said hi.” That soft familiarity was back on his father’s face, and Miles truly couldn’t tell if it was meant for him as Spider-Man or as Miles. For a moment, the tenderness and affection in the look nearly knocked the wind out of him. 

“Maybe you’ll meet someday.” Jefferson added. 

Yeah, boy I sure would love to be in the same place at the same time as your son! That would work out super well! Miles thought. He just remained silent as his father continued. “His mother and I worry about him. I couldn’t imagine somebody as young as him out here doing what you do. I think you might need somebody to worry about you like I worry about him.” 

For a long time, Miles didn’t know what to say. He looked up at his dad while they walked; his face was soft, eyes shining a little in the lights of Brooklyn’s streets. For a moment he actually began to reconsider the idea that perhaps his dad didn’t know after all. He’d never talked to him this way before, and something in him doubted he ever would if he knew who it was behind the mask. 

“I don’t need anybody to worry about me.” Miles insisted quietly as he turned his eyes away. He felt his dad bump his shoulder and looked up. 

“Everybody does, sometime.” Jefferson said with a gentle smile. “And if you ever decide you don’t want to work alone anymore, well...I do have that bloodhound on you after all.” 

Miles chuckled. “Well thanks d—“ he quickly stopped himself, having almost called him dad to his face. That would have been disastrous. “Thanks Officer dad.” Miles finished instead. 

_Fuck._

Jefferson turned to look at him in surprise but Miles leapt backwards. “I MEAN DAVIS. OFFICER DAVIS THANK YOU FOR THE HOTDOG GOODBYE.” In a panic, he webbed up to a nearby rooftop and was gone before Jefferson could say another word.


	3. Dinner Parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's about as stupid as it gets, folks! (But let's get a little stupider)

So _that_ didn’t go super great. He could only pray that dinner the following night would be easier. 

Miles fidgeted in his chair at the dinner table while his mother piled his plate high with food. They’d asked endless questions about his classes and his roommate and the dorms, and he’d answered them all easily, just waiting for the other shoe to drop and his father to ask about him being Spider-Man. Peter’s advice played like a record in his head, so he didn’t mention anything until they did. He only hoped father would wait to ask until his mother left the room. Bad enough that his father knew about it. The situation would be nothing short of apocalyptic if his mother knew. 

He was on the edge of his seat while his mother finished dinner and his father set the table, but once they actually started eating, he’d relaxed a little. They’d yet to bring it up. Maybe they wouldn’t, he thought hopefully. Maybe they’d just forget, he thought. Maybe he’d get lucky? 

He did not get lucky. 

“So, Miles, I ran into Spider-Man the other day.” Jefferson said. 

Miles stopped chewing and slowly lowered his fork. “Uh...yeah.” he said slowly. “You mentioned that.” 

“Ran into him again last night. You as big a fan of the new Spider-Man as you were the first?” His dad asked. Miles swallowed and sorely wished he had Peter with him to help him figure out what the hell he was supposed to say to that. 

“Uh, yeah, he’s pretty cool, I guess. I like his suit.” 

Rio sighed. “That poor boy. Y’know, Miles, your father told me he’s just a kid! Did you know that?” 

He nearly choked on his rice. “Oh! Oh, I, uh, I heard he was...uh, old.” he said eloquently. Jefferson shook his head. 

“Well he’s only about as tall as you, puts on a fake deep voice to sound older.” he said. “Y’know, Peter Parker was only sixteen when he started as Spider-Man.” 

Miles nodded. “Yeah...yeah, I guess so…”

“He’s an orphan, too!” Rio said. “Apparently he’s just living on the street, can you believe that? The poor thing.” 

“Acts real skiddish whenever he’s around me, almost like he’s scared of me. I think he might’ve been abused as a kid or something, and that’s why he’s on the streets.”

Miles relaxed a little. Their information was a little off; maybe they didn’t know after all! Maybe he was in the clear! “Oh, that is sad. Maybe that’s why he became Spider-Man.” 

“I wonder if you two would get along, if you knew each other. Maybe you’ve met even. Maybe he goes to your school, could you imagine that?” Jefferson asked. “I bet you’d like him.” 

“Yeah, I bet I would. I mean, he’s Spider-Man, right?” Miles laughed nervously as he relaxed a little more. “I bet he’s cool.” 

Rio humphed to herself. “Well, I hope you think he’s cool. If I ever get my hands on that boy I’m taking him back here. He can sleep on your bed while you’re away.” She laughed mostly to herself but Miles thought he was about to pull a Peter and spit water all over the table. 

“He’s a ward of the state, sounds like. Might be nice for him to have a place to stay.” Jefferson said. Miles looked to him in horror. 

“Uh...Yeah...that’s, nice of you.” _Jesus Christ somehow this was worse than them knowing he was Spider-Man._

_Now they wanted to_ adopt _Spider-Man._

He really should have taken Peter up on his offer to come with him. 

Speaking of Peter, at that exact moment, in his universe he was standing in front of a mirror in MJ’s restroom, splashing cold water on his face. 

“Alright Parker, you got this.” He murmured to himself. “You got this! You’re a Casanova, Don Juan over here. Lady killer. You got this, you got—“ 

“Peter!” 

Peter let out a high pitched shriek and backpedaled so quickly he nearly pitched backwards into the bathtub. Miles was suddenly standing in front of the mirror beside him, looking like he was about to throw up. 

“Jesus, Miles! Warn a guy!” Peter hissed as he braced himself against the wall. 

“I’m sorry!” Miles said at full volume. “I needed—wait...where are we?” 

“Peter? Are you alright?” A soft voice called along with a knock at the door. Peter winced and buried his hands in his hair as Miles reflexively went invisible. 

“Uhhh??” Peter called back, turning the faucet off. “I’m—I just—uh, saw a—spider?” 

“Is that MJ??” Miles hissed from behind Peter’s elbow. Peter nodded frantically at him and Miles winced right along with him. 

“Um?” MJ called back. “Okay? Well dinner’s almost ready…”

“I’ll be out in a second!” Peter called, then turned to Miles. “Okay listen. Miles. Bud. Buddy? Pal?? I’m gonna need you to make this one quick, okay? I’m a little busy.” 

“Are you on a date?” Miles whispered. 

Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s not a date it’s—well it’s—yeah, I guess I don’t know just—” he shook his head quickly. “You gotta focus, bud! Tell me what’s going on.”

“My parents want to adopt me!” Miles blurted. 

Peter blinked. “I’m...I’m sorry?”

“They want to adopt me my dad thinks Spider-Man is an orphan and he wants to adopt him how am I supposed to tell my dad he can’t adopt his own son—“

“Wait wait so they _don’t_ know you’re Spider-Man?” 

“I guess not!” Miles rubbed his face. “Oh my god I’m really in it now…” 

“Wow this really is a new one…” Peter put a hand on his chin. “What’d you tell them?” 

“I..? Didn’t really tell them anything? I didn’t know what to tell them!”

Peter put his hands on his forehead and rubbed hard as if that could stimulate his ideas. “Okay, okay okay okay okay, well that’s fine, right? They don’t know you’re Spider-Man after all! Identity saved!” 

“Well yeah, but—“

“Peter? Do you want white or red? I’ve got both.” MJ called. Peter knew that tone. She was starting to get suspicious. He groaned and turned the faucet back on to pretend to be washing his hands. 

“UhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHH whatever you’re having is great! I’ll be there in a second!” Then, to Miles: “Bud, I love you, but this is a _very_ bad time.”

“But my parents are trying to adopt Spider-Man I don’t know what to do Peter I need your help—” 

“Okay, alright, how about this?” Peter knelt down in front of Miles and put his hands on his arms. The kid really did look like he was moments away from either losing his lunch or bursting into tears, and Peter really did feel bad. “If you can hold out for one night, just one night, I’ll pop into your dimension tomorrow and we can figure it out together, okay?”

“You promise?” Miles bit his lip nervously and Peter really couldn’t help but smile affectionately at him. 

“Of course I do. Have I ever steered you wrong? Don’t answer that.” Miles managed a tight laugh. “Tomorrow night. I promise. See you soon. And wish me luck.” He winked at Miles, who pretended to be scandalized before finally laughing. 

“See you soon. And you don’t need luck, you’re Spider-Man!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is shorter than the others because I'm bad at pacing so sorry abt that also I can't write serious dialogue to save my life!!!


	4. Stinger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Miles team up, and of course, it doesn't quite go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AHEAD.  
> Also I would like to take this moment to personally apologize for being so mean to Miles.  
> This is a long one!

Miles did nothing all night and all morning the next day. Apparently every time he walked outside of his dorm, Spider-Man costume or not, something only just short of disastrous happened, so Miles practically locked himself inside with Ganke and resolved to do absolutely nothing until Peter could get there. To the point where Ganke was starting to get concerned. 

“You okay, dude?” He asked suddenly late Saturday morning. Miles pulled one side of his headphones away from his ear. 

“Huh?” 

Ganke swiveled around in his chair. “You okay?” 

“Yeah? Why?” Miles rolled over in bed and pushed himself up on one elbow. 

“Well...you’re here.” Ganke said. “You’re never here. Are you sick?” 

Miles laughed without humor and fell back against his pillow with a sigh. “No, I’m not sick. Just...stupid.” 

“Same.” Ganke laughed before falling quiet and watching his roommate for a few seconds. “Um, I just got the new issue of Thor, if you wanna read it with me.” He held up his comic book and wiggled it. Miles grinned. 

“Sure!” 

They spent Miles’ self-imposed house arrest reading Ganke’s extensive collection of comics and playing video games. He hadn’t really been in the room enough to get to know Ganke super well, but apparently they had just about as close to the same taste in media as two people could get, so the rest of his house arrest actually went faster than Miles expected it to. 

In fact, he almost forgot about why he was on house arrest at all, at least until a black blob in the corner of his vision made him turn just in time to see Peter spilling out of the portal and landing hard in the center of their room, nearly on Ganke’s lap. 

Ganke screamed and scrambled backwards and away from Peter, who was pushing himself up. Miles leapt to his feet. “Peter! You’re here!” 

“Peter?” Ganke asked, his head snapping between Miles and the stranger on the rug in front of him. “As in Peter Parker? Oh my god you’re Peter Parker aren’t you holy SHIT YOU’RE PETER--” 

“Shh!!!” Peter and Miles hissed at the exact same time. Miles was the one to continue on though, holding out his hands placatingly. “You gotta be quiet, man! Somebody’s gonna hear you!”

Ganke lowered his voice to a whisper. “You’re Peter Parker! I’m a big fan!” He put his hand out to Peter, who raised an eyebrow. “Well, I was a fan of like, our you. But I’m sure you’re cool too.”

“Wow thank you that means a lot.” Peter said as he shook Ganke’s hand. Miles grinned, genuinely unable to tell if it was sarcastic or not. 

“You guys going on a mission?” Ganke asked, his face spreading into a grin. 

Miles stood and retrieved his suit, then started out the door. “Uh yeah, you could say that. Keep the PlayStation warm for me, kay? And don’t read the next issue without me!” Ganke saluted him with a laugh as Miles pushed Peter out the door. 

“Wow, look at you, bud! Makin’ friends! You’re so well adjusted I must be a really good mentor.”

“Dude, if you get me out of this mess, I’ll get you a mug that says so.” Miles sighed and pulled his phone from his pocket as they walked. He had about a million texts from his dad, most unanswered, and several about Spider-Man. Peter peeked over his shoulder at the phone. 

“Challenge accepted. What’s the latest?”

Miles sighed. “Well, I basically locked myself in my room after dinner because apparently I can’t go outside without running into my dad.” He began. “So not much has happened after dinner last night.” 

Peter almost unconsciously steered Miles toward a nearby pizza parlor, which Miles allowed with a small, tired smile, realizing he hadn’t eaten in a long time. “And they are...trying to adopt you, correct? How exactly did that pan out?” 

“My dad’s got it in his head that Spider-Man is just a kid, and—“

“Wow I wonder where he got that idea.” Peter grinned but Miles shot him a glare. 

“Shut up! This is serious, man! My dad apparently told my mom about it and now they’re both on some nuts quest to try to get Spider-Man to come live with them!” He reflexively lowered his voice as they sat down in a booth.

“And they don’t know that it’s you, right?” Miles nodded. “So avoiding them is out, right? Because clearly that’s not going to happen. So...plan B.” He tapped his fingers on the table while he thought. “Just...let him adopt you?” 

“What?!” Miles hissed. “I can’t do that!”

“Why?! Let your parents pull double duty, you get twice the hotdogs and fatherly advice, they get the sense of satisfaction that can only come with a parenting job well done, and everybody wins!” A server set a plate down in front of them and Peter pushed it towards Miles (but only after grabbing a slice for himself). 

Miles groaned. “Because, the longer I spend with my dad the more likely it is he figures out who Spider-Man really is!”

“Well, are you using a fake voice?”

“Of course I’m using a fake voice!” 

“Lemme hear it.”

“Now?!” 

“Yes, now! Why not now?”

“Gee, I don’t know, maybe because we’re in the middle of a public restaurant?!”

Peter snorted, mouth full of pizza. “Kid it’s New York! Nobody cares! C’mon, give me your best spidey voice.” 

Miles stared at him for a moment before sighing and clearing his throat, then putting on his best spidey voice. “Uh, hello officer I am Spider-“

He stopped as Peter nearly choked on his pizza. “That’s how you’ve been talking to your dad this whole time?! Well no wonder he’s suspicious!”

Miles put his head down on the table and groaned. “Peter you’re not very helpful.” He moaned miserably. Peter sighed and leaned back in the booth. 

“I’m sorry, Miles. I know this stuff is hard.” He said sincerely. Miles picked his head up and Peter nodded toward the slice of pizza with a gentle smile. “So plans A and B are out. Maybe you’ll have to change your image as Spider-Man? I mean, it might seem kind of rude but the next time you see your dad maybe just...web away?” 

With a heavy sigh, Miles pulled his feet up onto the booth to rest his chin on his knees. That was the easiest solution, he supposed, to just either ignore his dad entirely or start being openly rude, but it still felt wrong. Peter watched him for a second. “What are you thinking, kiddo?” 

“I think…” He remembered what his own universe’s Peter had said in this last few moments. Hide your face. Don’t let anyone know who you are. He’s got everyone in his pocket. Both Peters had consistently reaffirmed that his secret identity was the most important asset he had. But this was his dad they were talking about. “What would happen if I just...told him?” 

“No.” Peter replied immediately. “Miles, I know it’s tempting, but you really cannot do that. Your identity is the most important thing you have. You never know who could be working with Fisk or Goblin or whoever--” 

“Peter, he’s my dad.” 

“And Aaron was your uncle.” Peter said. 

Miles’ face darkened. The words were like a punch to the gut, however true they were. Any reply he had caught in his throat before he could say it, enabling Peter to continue. “I know that sounds harsh, kiddo, but it’s true. Your identity is the number one thing you’ve got going for you, it’s--” 

He suddenly stopped speaking as both of their spidey senses went off like an alarm, prompting both to turn toward the large window beside them, then towards each other. 

“You feel that?” Miles nodded quickly and the both of them stood. “Good thing you brought your suit.” Peter mumbled as he threw a twenty down onto the table (he’d gotten a job, thank you!). Pedestrians outside were beginning to stir and nervously mutter amongst themselves about something beyond Miles’ and Peter’s view, but Miles was sure he could distantly hear shouting. 

The pizza parlor’s doorbell jingled as Peter and Miles rushed out toward wherever their spidey senses were leading them. Peter tapped Miles’ arm and indicated a nearby alleyway where the both of them quickly removed their jackets to reveal their suits and pulled their masks down over their faces. Before they stepped out from the alleyway, however, Miles reached out and stopped Peter. 

“Do you hear that?” He asked in a whisper. Peter strained his ears and eventually he heard what it was the Miles was referring to. A gruff, angry voice, speaking in spanish. 

“Scorpion.” They both said at the same time. 

They webbed over the rooftops side-by-side, upstream through a river of fleeing civilians. MIles struggled a little to keep up with him; after all, he’d been doing it for only a few weeks compared to Peter’s two decades. Still, after only a few moments, they found Scorpion, tearing up chunks of asphalt with his massive mechanical arms. Miles and Peter shared a glance before Peter nodded at him, hooked a web onto a streetlight, and went zipping downwards towards Scorpion, feet first. 

“What’s with the bags?” Peter called as he swung, prompting Scorpion to turn and look at him just in time for Peter’s heels to impact with his face. Scorpion swore and backpedaled, dropping those same bags he’d had last time. “You getting me a late Hanukkah present?” 

“Hey! That’s my line!” Miles called from the ceiling. Scorpion, rubbing his jaw, looked up. 

“Two of you?” He called in english. Miles grinned and made himself invisible before sprinting along the edge of the building, ready to jump. His palms began to arc with bright blue electricity.

“Two of us?” Peter asked to distract Scorpion. “You seeing double or something? I only see one of us!” He held Scorpion’s attention while Miles prepared to jump, shooting several webs out at Scorpion’s legs to try to trip him. It didn’t really work, but at the very least it kept him from noticing Miles, who had just became visible again, vaulting forward with his hands outstretched and arcing with electricity. 

Miles wasn’t a big fan of leaping without a web, but in true Spider-Man style, he managed to land in a pseudo-handstand on Scorpion’s shoulders, deliver a painful venom strike, then vault backwards off of him, landing beside Peter after a quick and slightly sloppy backflip. Scorpion groaned and fell backwards as the electricity shocked through his body.

“Nice moves, kid!” Peter praised as Miles landed beside him, only stumbling a little. Neither of them hesitated a moment more before they webbed up to circle Scorpion, who was slowly recovering from the venom strike. 

Scorpion swore at them. “I should have killed you when I had the chance,” he hissed, still in spanish, to Miles. 

“Hey, watch your language, potty mouth!” Miles shouted back in spanish. “Let’s see what you’ve got here.” He webbed one of the bags and pulled it to himself, still circling in the air above Scorpion while Peter, who was significantly better at hand-to-hand, webbed down to try to beat Scorpion back. 

“What’s going on? What are you telling him?” Peter called. “Is he talking about me?” 

Scorpion growled and lashed out first with a fist, then with his tail, knocking Peter back against the brick wall, cracking it in several places. “I think he might have been talking about me.” Peter choked with a cough that produced a few flecks of blood. Miles, meanwhile, was perched on a fire escape, opening one of the bags he’d taken from Scorpion. It was full of what appeared to be car parts, scrap metal, and other mechanical-looking nonsense. 

“What are you building?” Miles asked, this time in english. Sirens sounded from in the distance,  
and Miles knew without having to guess that one do the squad cars was likely his father. Miles webbed downwards and landed another kick to the villain’s face, then tossed the bag at Peter, effectively letting him tap out while Miles took over. “Alright, Scorpion.” he murmured, switching back to spanish. “Let’s dance.” 

He crouched in a battle stance while Scorpion tore up the asphalt, charging towards him. Just as his spidey sense went off, Miles leapt upwards and soared over Scorpion, webbing onto a building ledge at the last moment to keep from falling back down into his grasp. He only narrowly escaped Scorpion’s tail striking him straight in the hip. 

“Jeez, man!” Peter cried, having leapt back into the fight. “If you’re gonna steal car parts at least pick some that don’t look like microwaved garbage!” He spun one of the parts over his head with a web like a hammer-throw before releasing it, gonking Scorpion right between the eyes. The part in question clattered to the ground; Miles webbed down to inspect it. It was twisted and blackened like it had been damaged from high heat. 

“Oh shit, it’s from the collider!” Miles cried. “Fisk must be trying to rebuild--” he was cut off as his spidey sense blared again, but this time he didn’t have time to duck out of the way before Scorpion grabbed him by the throat. 

“You wanted to dance, little spider,” Scorpion hissed. Miles clawed at his hand, but Scorpion held fast, squeezing his throat so hard that his vision began to blur slightly. 

“Hands off the kid!” Peter shouted, his usual jovial tone dissolving into one of genuine concern and even anger. Out of the corner of his blurring vision, Miles could see Peter webbing towards them, the bag full of parts forgotten. 

Scorpion obliged him, throwing Miles at full speed into the already-cracked wall beside them. The bricks caved inward and Miles went careening inside before coming to a stop in an ungraceful heap, halfway covered in bricks. 

“That is not what I meant!” Peter was shouting, though Miles’ ears were ringing. Someone was coming over the rubble toward him; Miles rolled over, hoping it was Peter, but was met instead with his spidey sense flaring. Scorpion stood above him, but he did not wait while Miles tried to stand as Fisk had. Instead, he twisted his lips into a snarl and lashed out with his venomous tail. 

Miles cried out and rolled to the side, trying to ignore the waves of pain that flared through his torso. “Peter! Help!” He screamed as Scorpion’s tail came down again, inches from his body. 

“Hang on!” Peter shouted. Several webs coming seemingly out of nowhere and hooked around Scorpion’s head, pulling him backwards. Miles could hear Peter grunting with the effort of trying to pull him back.

With a whimper, Miles managed to push himself up from the rubble onto his hands and knees. His spidey sense was alarming like crazy, but he attributed it to the massive Scorpion man just inches away from him and not anything specific. 

He was wrong. 

Just as he made it onto his hands and knees, facing away from Scorpion, his body erupted into pain so intense it had him back down against the rubble in a split second. He looked down to find Scorpion’s stinger sticking out of his chest from where it had pierced through his back between his shoulder blades. 

“No!” He heard Peter scream from somewhere behind him. Scorpion retracted the stinger, which was just as painful, if not even moreso, as being stabbed with it. Miles’ mouth hung open and he couldn’t even muster a whimper as he felt the venom immediately surging through his system. 

stopped as the car screeched to a halt and Peter looked up to see the bright glowing Emergency sign beside them. Jefferson practically kicked open his door to help carry Miles inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger! >:)


	5. Stinger pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, MEDICAL PROCEDURES, GRAPHIC LANGUAGE.  
> Miles is between an even bigger rock and an even harder place.

Peter watched in horror as Miles went down and did not get back up. He’d been stung by his own universe’s Scorpion once too, but he would surely have died if it weren’t for a good Samaritan who had happened to call an ambulance for him. And this Scorpion was twice as large and, presumably, twice as venomous. 

“You son of a bitch!” He screamed. Peter webbed the Scorpion’s head and zipped forward, knee first, jaw clenched. A guttural sound ripped from his throat as his knee impacted with Scorpion’s face, so hard that he could hear a few of the man’s teeth clattering to the ground. It was more than enough to knock Scorpion out, but Peter took the extra precaution of webbing his mechanical legs together, then lifting and suspending him from a fire escape, bleeding and unconscious. 

He took no more than a split second to admire his work before clamoring over the rubble to Miles, who was pushing himself up with one arm and clutching his chest with the other. “Hey, hey hey hey, stay down, kid.” Peter said quickly, falling to his knees beside him. Miles whimpered in response but didn’t really seem to understand his words. 

“Miles. Can you hear me? Miles, look at me buddy.” Peter ripped his own mask off and gently lowered Miles back onto the ground before hooking his fingers beneath the kid’s mask and pulling it off over his head. Miles blinked. 

He could hear Peter talking but it sounded as if the entire world was under water. He needed to stand, he needed to get out of there, the sirens were getting closer and closer. Jeez, was it hot in that suit or was it just him? Suddenly everything was brighter, which prompted him to blink in the sudden light. He swallowed, though his throat felt like it was full of cotton balls. 

“I’m good.” He choked after a long moment, trying again to stand. Peter’s face came into his view, maskless. 

“We’ve got to get you to a hospital.” Peter said quickly. “Can you walk?” 

“I’m good.” Miles said again, pushing himself up, teeth clenched together tightly, hating the high-pitched keen that escaped his lips as he did so. The sirens were almost loud enough to hurt his ears. “Wh—where’s my mask? I need my...” He found it in Peter’s hands and quickly pulled it back over his head, lopsided. His hands shook as he wobbled on his feet. 

Peter pulled Miles’ arm around his shoulders to support his weight, but after a moment of Miles’ feet just dragging on the asphalt, Peter gave up on that pursuit and instead pulled Miles up into his arms and simply carried him over the rubble and out into the street. 

“Okay, bud? I need you to stay awake, ‘kay? That was enough neurotoxin to down a rhino.” Miles groaned in response. “Also please tell me you have your cellphone on you to call an ambulance because I—”

Car tires squealed to a stop as headlights illuminated the both of them. Peter grabbed Miles tighter for a moment before he realized the car was going to stop short of hitting them. He blinked in the bright red and blue lights. 

“Spider-Man!” The officer said as he stood from the car. Peter wasted no time in rushing forward, though Miles squirmed slightly in his arms. 

“He needs a hospital!” He shouted. “Can you call somebody—”

“Get in. I’ll drive you. There’s one just a few blocks away.” The officer said quickly. 

“N-no no, not this one—“ Miles slurred, though Peter quickly obeyed the policeman, shifting Miles to carry him with one arm while he opened the door with the other and practically threw himself inside. 

“What happened?” The officer asked as the car peeled out. His voice was thick. Peter settled himself in the seat with Miles’s head in his lap and tried to take the kid’s mask off again, but Miles protested. 

“Scorpion stung him through the chest. Call the hospital and tell them to get neurotoxin antivenom ready.” Peter said quickly. Then, to Miles: “Relax, kid, let me—”

“Peter.” Miles groaned. Peter frowned but Miles spoke before he could. “Wrong car.”

“What?” Peter stared at him in confusion but eventually looked up to see the officer’s name badge sitting on the empty passenger seat. Sgt. Jefferson Davis. Peter shook his head. “It’s alright, kid, it’s okay. Don’t worry about that.” 

The speeding car hit a bump and Miles abruptly reached for his own mask, pulled it up past his nose, and vomited onto Peter’s shoes. Peter winced. “Can’t you drive any faster?” He asked as Miles replaced his mask. 

“We’re almost there.” Officer Davis’ knuckles were white as he gripped his steering wheel. “Do you know him?” 

“Uh, you could say that—”

Miles moaned again and tried to sit up. Peter persistently pushed him back down. 

“If you know him, do you know anyone we should call? Parents? Family? Anyone?” Jefferson asked. Peter shifted uncomfortably. 

“I...don’t think that’s necessary.” 

As if in response, Miles heaved again, but this time it was dry, though when he rolled to the side Peter didn’t miss the large bloodstain left on his trenchcoat. “Shit. He’s losing blood fast. Are we--” he stopped as the car screeched to a halt and Peter looked up to see the bright glowing Emergency sign beside them. Jefferson practically kicked open his door to help carry Miles inside. 

The perpetual back-and-forth motion of Peter and his dad carrying him inside made Miles’ head spin. If he would have had it his way, the mask would be off right now and he’d be himself, but Peter had said his identity was the most important thing and Miles did not intend on messing up this Spider-Man more than he already had. Even if--holy shit, has it always been this hard to breathe in the mask? 

Up until that point, Miles had been so full of adrenaline that he almost hadn’t felt pain since he was first stabbed. He’d been nauseous, his head felt like somebody had shoved it in a vice, and he found he wasn’t quite able to control his limbs, but he hadn’t really been in pain. But as his dad jogged ahead of he and Peter to explain the situation to the admitting nurse, Miles adrenaline suddenly burned off all at once. Pain so intense it made his head spin hit him like a ton of bricks. 

“P-Pete—” he hissed, reaching out blindly. Peter shifted him a little which sent another wave of pain through him and elicited a choked scream. 

“I know, kiddo, I know. Just hang in there.” Peter murmured. 

Miles was dimly aware of new voices shouting at one another around him, but didn’t open his eyes again until he felt Peter lay him down on something semi-soft and mostly horizontal. The lights above him blurred into a vaguely white-blue smudge. Someone was speaking to him. In a voice he knew.

“...Spider-Man? Can you hear me? We need to get that mask off.” Hands were on his face. 

“No!” Miles protested, grabbing at the mask and weakly swatting the hands away. A face bending over him haloed in soft brown hair nearly made Miles cry. On any other day, his mother’s face was about the prettiest thing he could imagine. At the moment, she looked like an angel. He managed a strangled whimper and began to call out to her. “M--” 

He stopped himself. She wasn’t there as his mother. She was his nurse. Of course she is. Screw this Spider-Man luck. He realized abruptly that she was speaking. 

“Spider-Man, I know you’re in pain and you’re scared. But we need to get your suit off to help you.” He could hear the curtain around his hospital bed being pulled shut.

Miles grunted and tried to speak, but pain bloomed across his chest, radiating down into his arms and into his fingers the moment he did. Peter spoke for him; his voice was accompanied by hands on Miles’. 

“These are gloves, we can get them off and roll this part up to start an IV.” He said. Miles felt his glove slipping from his hand before he could stop it. He grunted again, but couldn’t manage to speak. Suddenly someone spoke into his ear. “Relax, kiddo. It’s alright.” Miles opened his mouth to respond but another lance of pain stabbed through his chest and all that escaped his lips was a cry. 

“Can you tell me your name?” Rio asked, her hands running over his bare forearm to find a vein. His skin was sticky with sweat. Miles gritted his teeth. Keep it together, Spider-Man. 

“N-no.” He hissed after a moment. He had to keep his identity. He had to keep the mask on. He had to—Jesus, he had to keep breathing. Was the room spinning or was that just him? Peter was trying to say something but he couldn’t hear over the hitching of his breaths, his chest heaving every time he sucked in a shaky inhale. Was it always this hard to catch his breath?

Peter tried again to remove his mask but Miles held onto it. “N-nametag—” he managed through ragged breaths. “Peter, look—” The effort of speaking had him gasping for air. 

If Peter could just see that it was his mother, he’d understand. He’d stop trying to take the mask off. He had to keep his identity, Peter had told him so. He wouldn’t let him down. Even if huge black spots were starting to bloom across his vision. 

“I know what the nametag says.” Peter said lowly. He kept his hand gently pressed against Miles’ forehead, even though the mask. “It doesn’t matter. The identity doesn’t matter. You matter.” 

While Peter spoke, Rio clipped an oxygen saturation reader onto Miles’ exposed finger because she didn’t have much else she could do. She swore in spanish and reached around Peter to call for help. “His airway is closing. We’ve got to get that mask off.”

You matter. With shaking hands, Miles reached out to grab at Peter’s. The curtain was pushed aside and replaced, and while Miles knew who had entered, he didn’t acknowledge it. He didn’t need to speak for Peter to know what he meant. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Miles.” Peter whispered. 

Peter gripped the hem of Miles’ mask and gently pulled it off, then stepped out of the way. 

The laryngoscope Rio had been holding clattered to the floor as it slipped from her hands. Jefferson gasped and took an involuntary step back. There was a brief but heavy silence while they stared at their son’s face, streaked in tears and twisted in agony. 

Peter was right to have moved out of the way. After just a few seconds his absence was immediately replaced by Jefferson rushing forward to his son, who reached blindly out for him. Rio stepped backwards and covered her mouth with her hand. 

“Jesus, _Jesus,_ Miles!” Jefferson cried. He squeezed Miles’ hand but Miles could hardly muster the strength even to look at him. His eyes were half open, mouth slack. Each breath that managed to raise his chest brought with it a terrifying rattling sound as Miles’ airway began to close. The venom coursing through his system brought powerful tremors that jolted his legs and arms. His eyes rolled back into his head. 

Peter looked away, pressing his fist against his mouth. 

“Rio—” Jefferson began helplessly, though Rio was way ahead of him. She stepped forward, jaw set, retrieved the laryngoscope from the ground, and prepared to intubate. There were no doctors available, she was qualified, and as macabre as it felt, it needed to be done. Another nurse eventually joined her to assist in administering the antivenom, though not after a gasp at seeing the same bright-eyes little boy that had followed Rio around during bring your kid to work day now splayed out and nearly seizing on the bed, dressed as Spider-Man. 

Peter heard Rio whispering to herself in a different language while she worked to intubate her son. He didn’t speak Spanish, but he knew she was either cursing or praying. Given the situation, he’d put money on a combination of both. 

And as for Miles, his awareness of what was going on around him fell almost entirely to nothing after Peter pulled off the mask. The blackness consumed his vision and he didn’t fight it. He wasn’t giving up. Hell no. His mother would kill him if anything happened to him. And Peter! He wouldn’t leave Peter. Not after everything they’d been through, especially Miles’ realization that peter was basically a lost puppy without him. And his father, not even a month after Aaron...Miles didn’t even want to think about it. (Luckily his brain power was dwindling at the moment, so he wouldn’t have been able to think about it even if he’d tried.)

He wasn’t giving up. He was Spider-Man, and Spider-Man doesn’t give up. But in that moment, his consciousness fading, aware only of his father’s hand in his and his mother’s soft voice, he was more than just Spider-Man. He was Miles. He was Jefferson and Rio’s son, broken and bleeding and frightened. 

The last thing Miles remembered was his mother’s voice, whispering the Hail Mary.


	6. Under the Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles recovers from his wounds, and Peter receives a well-deserved gift.

As a police officer and an ER nurse, Jefferson and Rio were experts in prioritization, in taking care of one thing at a time before dealing with the rest. Rio and the other nurse administered the antivenom along with enough anticonvulsants to kill a normal boy his size, then pulled a few strings to admit him to a private room, with only the two of them to give him care.

After they’d first dealt with a poisoned Spider-Man in respiratory failure, they were able to tackle the fact that it was their son under the mask. 

Rio sighed heavily and stripped her gloves off, then sat beside Jefferson on Miles’ bed. Peter watched, feeling a little out of place and wondering if they’d notice if he just slipped out. He didn’t want to leave Miles though, however sick the massive tube stuck down his throat made Peter feel. Without warning, Rio’s eyes snapped up to him. 

“Who did you say you were again?” She asked, voice low. Peter swallowed. 

“That’s...a long story.” 

Jefferson turned to look at him as well. His eyes were puffy and rimmed in red. “Does it look like we’ve got somewhere to be?”

Peter hesitated for a moment before he pulled up a nearby chair and rested his elbows on his knees. And he told them everything. He started from the very beginning and recounted the entirety of the last few weeks, all the way up until the confrontation with Scorpion that had brought miles down. 

Rio and Jefferson’s faces moved from disbelief to shock to a quiet, sad kind of acceptance. Jefferson still hadn’t let go of his son’s hand, and Rio hadn’t stopped gently stroking his cheek, glistening with a sheen of sweat. 

“I knew he was just a kid.” Jefferson said in a low voice. “But I didn’t think he was my kid.” 

The thought had crossed Rio’s mind, but that was all it had been; a passing thought. Nothing beyond wow, that could be Miles out there. When she’d said that Spider-Man could sleep on Miles’ bed, she didn’t think it would be so...literal. 

“I’m sorry.” Peter was saying. “I should have encouraged him to tell you both sooner. I practically had to throw him into your car. He didn’t want to get help. I told him his identity was the most important thing...shit. It almost got him killed.” He dropped his eyes to the ground and eventually closed them, trying not to picture Miles on the ground and bleeding. 

“But you were the one who took his mask off, too. That counts for something.” Rio said. Peter glanced up at Jefferson, who met his gaze sternly, but said nothing. Peter swallowed and looked back down. 

“Well...I’m glad he has you both.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, glancing again at Miles, whose skin was still sallow and ashen but at least his face was serene rather than twisted in pain as it had been. He could feel Jefferson’s eyes on him but couldn’t meet his gaze. Rio eventually stood from the chair, unable to ignore her constantly ringing work phone any longer. Jefferson stood too, for similar reasons. Rio asked Peter if he needed anything before instructing him to call her if Miles so much as flinched and eventually, reluctantly, slipping from the room. Jefferson didn’t even look at him before leaving in silence. 

X

It wasn’t long before Miles began to emerge from the haze of his IV sedation/scorpion venom cocktail. His muscles ached and throat felt as if he’d swallowed a bucket of razor blades. With a groan, he attempted once to sit up, but pain ripped through him the moment he tried, so he quickly fell back against the pillows. Someone suddenly spoke from beside him, a voice he recognized immediately. 

“...n you hear me? Miles?” Peter was saying. Miles felt a hand on his shoulder, gently jarring him back into consciousness. He managed a moan, but little else. After a moment he cracked one eye open and was met with a blurry image of Peter, leaning down over him with a concerned, nearly frightened expression that morphed immediately into one of relief the moment he noticed Miles’ eyes open. 

“Oh, thank god, kid. You scared us!’ 

Seeing Peter’s expression brought Miles’ memory of what had happened roaring back into his mind, and this time when he groaned, it wasn’t out of pain. “Oh shit. My parents are gonna kill me.” he muttered. Peter laughed gently. 

“Too late to worry about it now.” he said. Miles sighed and tried once more to sit up, this time with slightly more luck. There was a large bandage over his chest and a cannula giving oxygen beneath his nose. 

“Not yet. They don’t know I’m awake...you think I could make it out before them knowing if I--” he stopped as Peter raised a small remote control with a call nurse button blinking in red. He must have called Rio the moment Miles even flinched. “Oh, you traitor.” Miles hissed. Peter had no chance at rebuttal, as Rio and Jefferson both burst into the small room a second later. 

“Miles!” They both cried at once. Peter stepped back to allow them to flood Miles with hugs and kisses and worried looks. All of the fight Miles had, all the worry that he’d been carrying about seeing his parents again, washed away in an instant. Tears welled in his eyes as his mother wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, his father gently cradling him against his chest. He didn’t try to keep them in. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispered simply, miserably. “I’m so sorry mom--” 

“Shh.” his parents hushed. Jefferson held him tighter. “It’s alright.” he whispered. “We were so worried.” 

The force of his father’s embrace intensified the ache that already spread through his chest, but he refused to let go. “I’m so sorry, I should have told you both, I shouldn’t have gone out there alone and I--” 

“Miles.” Rio said. “Slow down. It’s alright. We need you to rest right now.”

Miles sniffed and weakly wiped at his tears with a nod. Peter slowly began to retreat as Miles took a deep, shaking breath and recounted the entire story of his becoming Spider-Man despite Peter having already done it. Rio and Jefferson listened patiently though they’d already heard it. The family was so enraptured by the story that no one noticed as Peter slid the curtain open and slipped out. 

He’d been in Miles’ dimension for quite long enough, and as much as he didn’t want to leave him, he knew he’d need to get back to his own soon. Not to mention Noir and Gwen were basically beside themselves with worry and would be wanting an update. 

“Parker.” Someone abruptly called from behind him. He turned to see Jefferson jogging after him. Peter stopped but couldn’t really think of much to say as Jefferson came to a stop in front of him. Peter swallowed, nervous that Jefferson was finally going to explode at him after holding it in for so long. “I...wanted to thank you. For what you did.”

“Oh.” Peter relaxed, if only slightly, though he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Uh, no problem.” 

“Could you--” Jefferson cut himself off and sighed. He was never very good at this. “If there’s anything I should...know, anything I should do to help him...I mean, they don’t teach you how to be Spider-Man’s father in all those parenting books…” 

A soft smile spread itself across Peter’s face. It was so easy to see now why Miles had wanted to just tell him. All at once Peter understood that he should have encouraged Miles to tell his father all along. It made him ache a little, but his guilt was overshadowed by gratitude that Miles had someone as understanding as Jefferson. 

“Anything he could possibly need, you’ve already given him.” Peter said sincerely. Jefferson’s eyebrows shot up, but after a moment he smiled too and offered his hand out. 

“Thank you, Peter. Hopefully we’ll—I’ll—see you around.” 

They shook hands and Jefferson returned to the room with his son while Peter found a place to safely rift back to his own dimension, confident that Miles was in good hands. The identity of Spider-Man may have been the most important thing to him, but he was glad that Miles had something more. 

X

The rest of the spider-people took it upon themselves to visit Miles one by one so as not to overwhelm his parents. Updates on his condition steadily flowed in as he recovered, but Peter hadn’t actually seen him in person for a few days. He’d heard from Gwen that he was “doing better”, from Noir that he was “still kickin’, the little slugger” and even from Ham, though Ham was just glad that Miles still had the mallet he’d given him. 

There wasn’t much time of Peter’s day that he wasn't thinking of Miles. He still felt kind of guilty for encouraging him not to tell his parents, but he tried to push the thoughts from his mind and focus on his current project (trying to figure out a way to wire his phone to get service through different dimensions). 

He set his cup of coffee down and turned back to his work on the phone when he hears the distinctive sound of a portal opening behind him. At first he didn’t turn, expecting an update from Gwen or Noir. 

“How’s it going?” He called a little absently. All he heard was the plink of a dish being sat down on his counter. He turned just in time to see the portal closing and a new coffee mug placed on his counter beside the old one with a note attached. Peter frowned and stood to retrieve it. 

_I know it was a joke, but I thought you deserved this anyways. Thanks for all your help, Peter. Love, Miles._

He’d signed his name in his colorful street art style; Peter could tell how much time he’d spent on it. He probably had little else to do, cooped up in a hospital bed all day. Peter smiled and at first couldn’t remember what joke Miles was referring to, but as he removed the note to examine the cup, he remembered with a laugh. 

_If you get me out of this, I’ll get you a mug that says so,_ Miles had joked before everything had gone down with Scorpion. Peter laughed and immediately transferred his coffee into the new mug, upon which Miles had created a bright and, in a way, proud design. 

_World’s Okayest Mentor._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Thank you for reading! Leave me comments of anything you'd like to see in the future! You can find me on my tumblr @queenofcryptiids. Bye for now!


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